


Meeting Your Hero (Doesn't Go As Planned)

by therogueheart



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Bottom Peter Parker, Breathplay, Choking on dick, Consensual Sex, Consensual Underage Sex, Cum Swallowing, Deepthroating, First Time Blow Jobs, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, NSFW, Not Canon Compliant, Peter is a disaster, Safe Sane and Consensual, Scene Divergence, Scene Rewrite, Semi-Public Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Size Queen Peter Parker, Slight power dynamic, Smut, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark is Hung, Top Tony Stark, bdsm dynamic, blowjob, civil war rewrite, no civil war, not safe for work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:14:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21653593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therogueheart/pseuds/therogueheart
Summary: Tony Stark.Tony. Fucking.Stark.Iron Man was sat on his couch. Eating walnut loaf. Chatting to his Aunt, like he was an Uncle or family friend swung by on their way home.Now with stunning fanart! Link in the notes.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 23
Kudos: 881





	Meeting Your Hero (Doesn't Go As Planned)

**Author's Note:**

> The Starker group chat is the best worst influence so here’s some size kink ✌ Not completely canon in that there’s no Civil War, Tony just wants to keep this crazy kid safe. It doesn’t quite go how he expected it to. 
> 
> Dedicated to the trash can that is the Tumblr Starker chat, all the dumbass antis watching it like a Jeffree Star palette release and all the funky little fellow trash bags below that got my fanfic urges raging harder than a puberty morning boner. 
> 
> I high-key hate this so expect more size kink in the future to make me feel better.  
> [Now featuring absolutely beautiful fanart by eskerbel!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23349532)

Tony Stark.

Tony. Fucking. _Stark_.

Iron Man was sat on his couch. Eating walnut loaf. Chatting to his Aunt, like he was an Uncle or family friend swung by in their way home.

Peter nearly dropped the DVD player, jaw dropping as he screeched to a halt on the hideous green carpet. He could feel his stomach twisting, his braincells running around and screaming and his heart thumping at his ribs like a racehorse.

He couldn’t throw up in front of Iron Man.

“ _Uh…What_? I mean, hey? Hi. Um-” He cut himself off with a huff, blinking at the way the corner of Tony’s mouth curled up into a sly, well hidden smirk.

“Oh, Mr. Parker” he greeted smoothly, as though only just noticing the fact that Peter had arrived. Tony’s head lifted and tipped, eyeing him across the room with an amused, knowing gaze. Peter had to force himself to relax his grip on the player when it gave the faintest of creaks.

“Hey! I’m - I’m - Hi. Mr. Stark. Peter. I’m - What are you…Why are you _here_?” He staggered out, arms falling as he tried to compute the fact that Iron Man was sat on his couch.

And Iron Man looked _good_.

He was wearing a sharp cut, fitted suit the colour of charcoal and his fluffy, dark hair swept across his head. His voice was a silken purr and the only thing out of place was the angry, black eye when Tony turned his head fully.

“"I was just waiting for you, actually. You’re late. Thankfully, your _gorgeous_ Aunt here had some _delicious_ walnut loaf to keep me occupied” Tony drawled, fingers dipping the slice of loaf in his grasp. It was almost enough to make Peter laugh.

Tony was either an amazing actor, or his life experiences had burnt off his tastebuds. Aunt May’s walnut loaf tasted like if you’d scraped the burnt oil off a pan, ground some walnuts into it, spat on it, fried it a little, then rubbed it in dirt. Regardless, Aunt May giggled like she was 12 and nursing a crush, waving a hand to dismiss the lie.

“Uh, Mr- Mr. Stark. What are you doing here?” He managed to wheeze out, still unable to tear his gaze from the way the man eyed him. Cocky. Amused. Daring.

He knew there was only one legitimate reason that Tony Stark would be sat on his couch.

Fuck.

Was he in trouble? Was this a threat? A cease and desist? Had he accidentally hurt someone? Oh my god.

“I figured it was about time we met” Tony replied evenly, and Peter’s heart plummeted. Oh god. He was right. They were gonna take him away. Aunt May would know. Peter was going to jail and -

“You’ve been getting my emails, right? I’ve been signing them personally. And writing them. Y'know, about that grant you applied for?”

Tony winked once with his left eye, then with his right, out of sight of his Aunt, who twisted to Peter with a star-struck expression.

“You never told me you applied for a grant!” She beamed, and Peter balked. _He_ didn’t even know he’d applied for a grant. How could he tell her about something he didn’t even know he’d done?

“The grant” he replied weakly, trying to prod his brain into functioning. “Right. Yeah”.

“Look at him. So star struck he’s forgotten why I’m here. The September Foundation, darling. You applied. I approved” he announced, like it was a thing Peter should have known, like he’d forgotten his keys on his way out the door.

“The - The Foundation. Of course, yeah. I applied for that” he agreed easily, folding his arms. Was this code? A cipher for _hey, I know you’re Spiderman. I’m here to lock you up forever_.

“How come you never told me you applied for a grant? Are you entering the ‘keeping secrets’ phase?” Aunt May huffed at him, but she didn’t seem angry. How could she be, sat next to the richest and hottest man in America?

“I - I just…Surprises! I know you love surprises. And I wanted to…I figured you’d be proud…So what exactly did I get approved for?” He quizzed, turning his gaze back to Tony, who was watching him the way a lion might watch a trapped antelope.

“Well, Mr. Parker. That’s why I’m here. You applied. I approved. That’s means we’re in _business_. _Together_ ” Tony said pointedly, eyeing him over the rim of what was probably the ugliest coffee mug in history.

Yeah. This was definitely not about a grant that Peter never applied for.

“This date loaf is something else” Tony remarked, waggling the slice that had exactly one bite taken out of it. “I can’t decide if it’s the baking, or the fact it was made by an insanely hot woman”. Aunt May went scarlet and grinned at him, and Peter had to resist the urge to roll his eyes and blanch. He couldn’t decide what was worse, his hero and crush lying about date loaf, or his hero and crush calling his Aunt hot.

“Mrs. Parker, do you mind if I have some time with Mr. Parker, to discuss the finer details?” Tony remarked, glancing across at May with a sweet look.

“It’s just Ms. I’m not married” Aunt May corrected, but he suspected Tony knew that, and he was assured when Tony gave her a wicked smile. “Well, my day just keeps getting luckier” he purred, rising to his feet.

Peter’s disgust at the blatant flirting was almost enough to distract him from following the unfolding rise of Tony’s body.

Almost.

And not nearly enough to have his breath hitching when his gaze trailed past a long, trim torso to land on an unmistakable bulge. Peter nearly went a little cross-eyed, caught between horror at the thought that Tony Stark was hard over his Aunt, and the low spike in his gut at the sight of the impressive bulk.

“Mr. Parker” Tony crawled with slow, knowing amusement. Peter forced his gaze upwards, swallowing thickly at the way Tony quirked a brow at him. “Perhaps somewhere more…Private?” He suggested, and Peter’s knees almost buckled.

“Uh…Sure. Yeah. Private. To talk about the…Grant” He finished lamely, spinning on his heel and striding for his bedroom. The clack of Tony’s shoes on the linoleum followed him, and Peter tried to steel his nerves.

Tony Stark was gonna be in his bedroom. To arrest him. Or make him stop.

Peter sucked in a breath as he shoved open his door, tossing his backpack into the corner. Thank God he’d tidied up the day before. The only real mess was his desk. Everything Spiderman related was carefully hidden away.

“Neat boy. Nice posters” Tony remarked as he stepped into the room, shutting the door neatly with his heel. Peter twisted to scowl at the various Avengers prints that lined the plaster above his desk. The majority were Captain America and Iron Man, but Hawkeye came a close third.

Tony pushed away from the door and walked to the side of Peter’s desk, bracing his arm against the wall as he leaned over and spat out a mouthful of loaf that Peter hadn’t even realised he hadn’t swallowed. “As far as walnut date loaves go, that was _bad_ ” Tony murmured, thumb swiping along his mouth.

Peter tracked the movement before turning away, retreating to the far corner with a sigh. “I was having a really good day today, y'know? Found this DVD player just sat there. Algebra test…” Peter tracked his pencil on the desk. “ _Nailed_ it. And I-”

“I’m gonna stop the rambling there, kiddo. I have a question. Of the rhetorical kind. Because I already know the answer” Tony sniffed, pulling out his phone. It lit up and projected a video Peter instantly recognised, his cheeks flaming. “This is you” Tony stated, gaze flicking between Peter and the display.

“No. That’s Spiderman. I’m Peter” he huffed in response, side-stepping the man to hide in the other corner.

“Funny” Tony drawled lazily, swiping onto the next video. “And this. That’s what, 3000 pounds? 40 odd miles an hour? Impressive. If I wasn’t me, I’d take one look at that twinky little body and think I’d made a mistake” Tony remarked, ignoring the way Peter’s head shot up, his eyes wide and lips parted.

“It’s a bit naughty, isn’t it? Trying to lie to your childhood hero? I mean, I’m almost offended. My intelligence feels insulted” Tony quipped, and the combination of it all was enough to distract Peter from the way that Tony turned, prodded at the attic latch.

If it wasn’t for the snick of the lock, Peter would have missed it. As it was, he leapt across the room just in time to snatch his suit, throwing it into his laundry hamper with a scowl. His heart still raced and his cheeks still felt warm.

 _Twinky_.

“What is that, a onesie?” Tony asked, head tilting as he advanced. Peter had no choice but to flatten himself against the wall, gaze averting down. Except down was a mistake, because all he found himself doing was fixing on the way Tony’s zipper jutted out, the dramatic cut of his thighs.

“No” he huffed stubbornly, jolting when a set of fingertips slid across his hip.

“Lie. But _this_ is what I’m really impressed by” Tony shot back, waggling the little vial of web formula he’d apparently pick-pocketed. Peter frowned, reaching out and aiming to snatch it. To his surprise, Tony held his grip, hauling Peter forwards a step.

“So, what? You sneak out between classes, run around the city stopping crime, get home before curfew?”

“I don’t have a curfew” Peter bit out, moving a leg forwards to brace himself for pulling away. Unfortunately they were closer than Peter had anticipated, and his thigh slipped between Tony’s, pressing against the thick, heavy bulge there. Peter froze, cheeks turning scarlet and jaw dropping.

“You’re a _baby_. You _should_ have a curfew” Tony remarked, but his voice sounded…Strangled. A little deeper than before. Peter jerked away, letting go of the vial as his cheeks flamed. He retreated, sinking onto his bed and sucking in a breath.

Fuck. Tony felt…Big. _Firm._

“Mr. Stark. This - Can… It’s gonna suck enough, you arresting me. Or making me stop. Its gonna double suck that you’re…. _Appreciating_ my Aunt while you do it” he muttered, rubbing at his hair in frustration and humiliation. There was an unattractive snort from across the room.

“Firstly, do I _look_ like SHIELD’s errand boy to you? Their little messenger to tell you to quit?” Tony asked, though not harshly.

“Jesus _Christ_. I can’t believe I’m about to say this to a baby faced little brat. I feel like an old pervert. But as unusually attractive as May Parker is, _this_ is at no level of appreciation’” Tony huffed, making a weak gesture down his body.

“But…” Peter trailed off, shaking his head. He’d humiliated himself enough. Tony came closer, stopping before Peter and cocking his head, arms folding.

“You thought I was here to arrest you? Or make you stop?” At Peter’s weak nod, Tony huffed softly. “Kid. I know you’re not gonna stop. That’s not why - Alright. Kid. I’m gonna need your eyes anywhere but _there_ ”.

Peter jolted. He hadn’t even realised his gaze had dropped, sliding over Tony’s body until it fell to the strain of his zipper, the stretch of the fabric over an undeniably hard cock. Except…

“I didn’t mean…You’re standing close. It’s eye level. With my eyes.” Peter mumbled lamely, dropping his gaze to Tony’s shoes. He felt humiliated. Dirty.

Horny.

“It’s only eight and half inches, and there’s a good fifteen between us. I’m sure you can talk to me about being Spiderman without getting your eye poked out” Tony drawled lazily and Peter nearly choked, wheezing on a breath.

_Eight and a half._

Fuck. That was about right for the porn he watched. For the men with thick, long cocks that railed little boys like him. Peter thought about the one, lone dildo below his bed. It was only about five inches big. Though thicker than his own cock. It had been enough, before the porn. Before the kink.

It had filled him, stuffing him full and stretching him wide until that first video. That downward spiral into realising it wasn’t enough. It didn’t stretch him open like he wanted. Didn’t reach his guts like he needed.

A sharp snap between his eyes jolted him from the way heat begun to crawl up his thighs, pool in his stomach. He could feel his mouth watering. “Hey. Kid. You with me? I said I want you” Tony huffed, looking both amused and mildly annoyed. Peter’s heart nearly twisted in on itself.

Wanted.

Tony wanted him.

They were talking about dicks and Tony _wanted_ him. Tony was offering that. That delicious, huge bulge that Peter couldn’t tear his gaze away from. Eight thick, glorious inches. A shiver ran down Peter’s spine, his eyes nearly rolling.

“Okay” he croaked, sucking in a breath before he let himself slip from the edge of the bed, sinking down onto his knees in the cramped space between Tony’s legs and his bed. Evidently, this isn’t what Tony expected him to do. The man’s fists spasmed against his thighs and his eyes widened. He didn’t look horrified exactly, but it was something close.

“You said you wanted me” Peter whispered, brows pulling together and voice weak as he blinked up at Tony, who flailed his arms with an alarmed expression.

“Where in ‘I want you to work as Spiderman under my guidance’ did you get ‘I want you on your knees’ from?!”

And.

Oh.

Could you die from humiliation? Was shame a legitimate cause of death? He’d just sunk to his knees - unwarranted - In front of Tony fucking Stark. And with Aunt May less than a hallway across from them. Peter tried not to cry, blinking dumbly up at Tony. He couldn’t even bring himself to focus on the fact that Tony had wanted to work with him. To teach him.

Almost couldn’t focus on the fact Tony’s cock was a mere hand from his cheek, a tantalising bulge he wanted to muzzle into, to bury his face against. He went a little cross-eyed looking before he dropped his head, taking a shuddering breath in.

“Kid. Get off your knees, for the sake of impulse control” Tony breathed out, voice gritty, dark. When Peter looked up the man’s eyes were dark, half-hooded. His jaw ticked and at his sides, his hands were tight fists.

Was it…?

“Jesus. Fucking…Dropped right to your knees. With your Aunt outside and all” Tony huffed, reaching up to rub at his temples. It didn’t escape Peter that he hadn’t stepped away. Hadn’t pushed Peter back. A strangled sound caught in his throat and Tony looked at him again, something else in his eyes, as though he had begun to _really_ think about the situation, the words. 

“You were gonna suck my dick, right here on your bedroom floor, with your Aunt less than a few feet across the hall?” Tony asked again, slower. Peter’s cheeks felt like he might be able to fry an egg on them, but he nodded slowly, dropping his gaze again. Fuck. This was it. He’d blown it. 

He’d always known he’d make a fool of himself if he ever met someone like Tony. He’d just never expected to do it on such a nuclear, unbelievable level. 

Tony heaved out a deep, long breath. “Fuck. I never was good at following the rules or doing the right thing” Tony ground out, and Peter’s head snapped up, eyes widening. Did that mean…? 

“Say it”. Peter blinked, lips parting soundlessly as he furrowed his brows. “Say you want it. Expressly. I need to hear that” Tony added shakily, one hand reaching out to bury deep into Peter’s curls. It was too much, too distracting, and Peter’s head lolled for a moment, eyes rolling at the sensation. 

“I want it” he breathed. More than Tony could ever know. More than Peter had ever realised, even in all of his fantasies. Tony’s fingers twisted in his hair, pulling just enough to have Peter whimpering, surging forwards at the unspoken command. If Tony had been soft before, he wasn’t now. The half-hard bulge pressed against Peter’s cheek when he nuzzled it and he whimpered at the feel. It covered him almost jaw to temple. Fuck. Would it reach the bottom of his throat? Would it punch into his guts? 

Tony was cursing quietly above him, fingers twisting gently through his hair as Peter mouthed over the soft fabric, the dick beneath growing harder under his touches. He let his lips map out the shape, let them slide firmly over the thickness. Fuck. He’d stretch Peter open, useless and sloppy. “Please” he slurred, muffled by the fabric as he let his tongue trace the solid curve. 

“Since you asked nicely” Tony replied smartly, but his voice was strained, rough. Peter wasted no time, shuffling back just enough to sneak his fingers between his lips, tugging at the zipper. He followed it down with his tongue before working on the buckle, tugging the belt apart and jerking in surprise when free from its entrapment, Tony’s cock almost slapped him in the face. Tall, thick, mouth wateringly large. He couldn’t help a pathetic mewl, staring at the way the tip jut out from the waistline of his boxers. 

“Fuck” he bit out, diving forwards. Tony barely had enough time to brace his legs, holding Peter’s weight as the boy pursed his lips into a pretty little o, sucking the tip down until the soft cotton of his boxers rubbed at his lower lip. 

“ _Fuck_!” Tony echoed, loudly, and they both froze. One second. Two. Ten. Peter decided it was safe and suckled, eyes falling shut. Tony was hard, silky skin and the mild taste of soap and salt. The tip was big enough that it stretched his mouth a little and he knew he was drooling already, could feel his own dick standing hard and needy. 

He pulled off just enough to scrabble at Tony’s hips, tugging down belt and boxer and trouser to reveal inch after inch of glorious skin. He was keening by the time the fabric came to a rest under full, heavy balls, staring a little cross-eyed at the dick that curved to Tony’s navel, flushed and wet. Fuck. That was…

“Huge” he finished aloud, voice a wet rasp. He immediately flushed, looking up at Tony’s amused, husky chuckle. He could so get used to this angle. To looking up at Tony with the man’s hungry, dark gaze and his dick in his peripheral. Peter leaned forwards, adoringly nuzzling at the flesh, sitting up a little to let the tip smear along his lips. 

He wanted it inside him. Wanted it so deep he could taste it. Wanted it to fill him up until he split apart. Choking on a shuddering breath he shifted, grasping the base and delighted to find that his fingers didn’t quite touch. He delved down, sucking the tip back into his mouth until it was flush there, heavy on his tongue and cutting off any other words he might say to humiliate himself further. 

God. May was outside. She could walk in at any minute - She’d never been good at knocking. She’d see him like this, on his knees for a man thirty years his senior. Mouth stuffed full of cock. Peter moaned before he could help himself, eyes rolling as he sucked down more, pressing forwards. His mouth felt full, stuffed deep already, and little over half was in his mouth. The thought made him drop a hand, pressing harshly on his own dick to stave off the pleasure. 

“Knew your mouth wasn’t just pretty. You do this for every billionaire that offers to fund your hobby?” Tony asked, threading his fingers through Peter’s hair once more. In retaliation Peter shifted, taking a bracing inhale before he pushed. Swallowed around the never ending length of cock. Tony swore above him again as he sucked, swallowed, drooled pathetically around the dick that pressed past the back of his throat, nudging firm and unyielding. 

The implication he was a slut, a sugar baby, a hole for a reward had his eyes fluttering shut again, gurgling around the spurt of pre-cum he could feel, but couldn’t even taste. Peter sunk lower on his haunches, head tipping back. He pulled away just enough to breathe, laving his tongue and suckling as he steadied himself. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. Take what you want” Tony cooed, his other hand coming down to cup Peter’s jaw as he drooled on his cock, breath hitching, palm digging between his thighs. Peter opened his eyes and looked up, blinking doe-ishly up at Tony as he begun to sink down again, swallowing determinedly. He let his hands fall to Tony’s thighs, resting there as he could feel his throat begin to ache, opening up for Tony’s cock. 

The man sucked in a hissed breath, nipping at his own tongue, head falling back as he pet gently at Peter, encouraging. “O-ooh. Fuck, kid. Like that. That’s right, swallow me down like a good boy. Work for it” Tony murmured, righting himself to look down at Peter. He looked obscene. Mouth stretched open wide, drool at the corner. Lips dark, already swollen. Cheeks presenting the shape of his dick. 

For a beginner, and for the length, Peter felt he was doing well. He couldn’t breathe, could do little more than suck as hard as he could, or pant uselessly around Tony’s cock, a mess of drool and headspace already. He could focus on nothing more than Tony’s cock, the sound of Tony panting above him, the way his jaw ached and his throat felt bulged out and raw. 

Peter shuffled on his knees, a whine trapped in his throat as he took Tony deeper, choking around the intrusion. He felt drool drip down onto his leg and couldn’t bring himself to care, massaging his dick through his jeans with his thumb. He wasn’t even aware that he was making sounds until Tony reached down, cupping his jaw gently, his throat, thumbs brushing away drool and pressing _just so_ against the bulge of himself. 

“Would have thought stuffing your mouth with cock would’ve made you quiet. Don’t want dear Aunt May to ruin the moment, hm?” Tony purred, silken and dark. It made Peter slur uselessly around his full mouth, fingers digging into Tony’s thighs at the thought. He bobbed his head enthusiastically, humming as Tony kept cradling his head, thumbs roaming, pressing, stroking. 

And then, like Beetlejuice, there was a polite knock on the door, just as Peter eagerly impaled his throat once more. “Boys? I’m going to make a start on dinner. Mr. Stark, you’re welcome to stay for some casserole!”. Peter panicked, a desperate, sloppy sound escaping his throat, but Tony’s hands held him in place, only allowing him back enough to breathe. 

The look on Tony’s face said not to bet her life on it, but then it morphed into a sinful smirk as he looked down, hand tightening in Peter’s hair, the other dropping to cradle himself through Peter’s throat. Peter could only gurgle helplessly. “She could walk in” he whispered. 

“She could walk in right now. See you on your knees like this. Choking on my cock. Drooling all over yourself. Maybe I _should_ stay for dinner. I bet I could get you off under the table, right under her nose”. 

“Boys?” May called again, a little more tinged with worry. Peter struggled in Tony’s grip again, eyes pleading as he looked up at him. 

“As much as it would delight me, Ms. Parker, I’m afraid I have some business to deal with after I take care of Peter”. He sounded apologetic, sweet. Like anything but a man with his dick stuffed down a teenager’s throat. Peter didn’t hear what May replied, too busy with sloppily sucking Tony’s dick as though his life depended on it. 

“I - Fuck. Kid. Peter. Mmph”. For once, it was Tony that couldn’t string the words together, crumbling into a mess of moans and breathless gasps. Peter’s ears roared with the need for air, with the sloppy squelch of Tony thrusting in and out of his mouth. His throat burned, feeling hot and raw and stretched out. 

Is that how his ass would feel, if Tony was buried there? The thought had him thrusting weakly against his palm, breath hitching as he curled his tongue around Tony’s cock, tears welling as he bulged his throat out. Tony cursed above him, hips stuttering forwards, hands cradling his throat. 

“Fucking…I can _see_ it. You’re so _good_. Fuck. Look at you” he rasped, Peter’s head rocking with each time Tony’s cock drove into him, stealing his air, stretching his mouth. He keened wetly in response, raising a hand to pet at Tony’s thigh, suckling for all he could. 

“Shit, kiddo. I’m gonna cum. Gonna let you have it. Let you earn that new suit” Tony ground out. Peter shuddered, hips jumping at Tony’s implications, eyes rolling as the man pulled back just enough that Peter could taste the sudden flood of cum that drenched his mouth, sliding down the fucked-open wreck of his throat. 

It was almost too much for him to swallow but he did, moaning weakly as he choked on he thick liquid. Tony’s cock fell from his mouth with a loud pop and Peter gasped in air, falling back onto his haunches. He looked a mess, dazed and fucked. His mouth swollen, eyes shiny, cheeks flushed. 

“That’s gonna look questionable” Tony murmured, running a hand through Peter’s hair slowly. Peter didn’t have a voice left to laugh with. 


End file.
